Beethoven' Deafness - Certification of Absolute Victory?

We are all aware of the unspeakable tragedy that struck Beethoven; and it has, of course, been written about by countless historians and musicologists for over two centuries.
For the most part, the story of this tragedy is that of Tragedy, and nothing more, which for the casual reader is where this issue comes to rest.
Perhaps one might consider the ramifications of this tragedy beyond itself; that is, not just the end, but also , a means to an end, which gives the world the sublime gift we call Beethoven.
A question arises in my mind; namely, would the music of this composer have been what we know it to be, had he not lost his hearing? Would, in some arcane way, his music have taken a different path, a different direction, even if it were a subtle difference, had there been no such affliction striking him?
Certainly, the music which ultimately gives us the metaphysical vision of this genius was committed to paper after his deafness had become total. As brilliant and provocative as his music was before 1798, before the deafness began; even taking into account the totally predictable development that his music would have undergone, due to his great gifts, the question beguiles me; again, would his music have been what it is now, and has been, for these past two centuries?
As a composer, I know how vital, how elemental in importance it is to have that indefinable wall of insularity envelope me during the mode that induces me to write. The substance and power of that insularity is the ultimate measure of what the result is. In other words, the essence of insulation engendered by the genius composer such as Beethoven is a world more efficient and more powerful than that of a lesser composer. I know that, as I write, I am aware that whatever insulation I possess gives me the knowledge that I have something to "say" in my music.
Well, just consider what the nature and power of that protective 'bubble' of a Beethoven must be like - one can only imagine.
Thusly, I am driven back to the issue of total deafness, and the results emanating from the process of writing that Beethoven had undergone. No other great composer has ever been the receiver of such an event as that which Beethoven experienced.
I am not for a moment projecting an argument on behalf of deafness as any kind of 'enhancer' for a composer. I am merely posing a question as it pertains to the Beethoven Experience; namely, what is known of the personality, the inner spirit-in short, of Beethoven the man, what with the combination of his particular strengths and weaknesses, coupled with his great gifts, with the terrible weight of a silent world surrounding him - would his music been different had his hearing remained?
Of course, a question which can never be definitively answered.

Thomas Jefferson and Ludwig Van Beethoven - Brethren in Spirit?

I remember reading, years ago, a book by David Ewen, titled "Beethoven - The Man Who Freed Music". The title is perhaps a bit simplistic; however, the author effectively deals with Beethoven's struggle and ultimate victory in representing, for the first time, music reflecting the vocabulary of man's emotion simply for the sake of its existence - or, to cite briefly, the creation of Romanticism in music.
Jefferson, a contemporary, and thousands of miles away, was doing the same thing in his writings; that is, to exemplify the spirit of the Enlightenment by way of reflecting upon the reality of man's struggle with and questioning of Authority, let alone dealing with the coming pragmatism of human contact and the lowering of the barriers to allow common language and egalitarianism to project the ongoing search for freedom in its many incarnations and forms.
It seems to me that these two giants were involved in the same process.

Beethoven - Revealing Excerpts From His Diaries

Beethoven quite regularly was in the habit of writing notes down about himself on blank pages of daily calendars; not only about issues concerning music, but also about aspects of daily experiences outside of music.
For instance, he wrote quite a bit about the problems of housekeeping, especially during the years 1819, 1820 and 1823.
And what a terror he must have been!
(1819) January 31 - Gave the housekeeper notice.
February 15 - The kitchen - maid entered upon her duties.
March 8 - The kitchen - maid gave her notice.
May 12 - Entered a new apartment. "Miser et pauper sum." (I am poor and wretched).
May 14 - The housekeeper entered service at 6 gulden monthly.
July 20 - Gave the housekeeper notice.
(1820) May 16 - Gave notice to the kitchen - maid.
May 10 - The kitchen maid left.
July 1 - The kitchen - maid entered upon her duties.
July 28 - The kitchen - maid ran away in the evening.
August 10 - 13 - Four evil days - I ate in Lerchenfeld (a suburb outside of the city limits).
These notes, and these are but a few written down by Beethoven, were in the Beethoven biography of Anton Schindler, the composer's official biographer, who followed him around, sometimes from a rather discreet distance.

The Giant, Beethoven - After all; Only a Human

The power of Ludwig Van Beethoven as a creative force, can be summarized by the great 19th century pianist , composer and thinker, Franz Liszt, in his words (to paraphrase): "that giant shadow; always behind me."
The world is, of course, conversant with the magnificence of Beethoven's creations; however, it may be of interest to become more familiar with the Master's life style, as it appears to us in different forms.
A visit to Beethoven by a member of Napoleon's Council, Baron de Tremont, is noted in de Tremont's memoir; as follows:
"Imagine all that is most filthy and untidy: puddles on the floor, a rather old grand piano covered in dust and laden with piles of music, in manuscript or engraved. Beneath it (I do not exaggerate), an unemptied chamberpot. The little walnut table next to it was evidently accustomed to having the contents of the inkwell spilled over it. A mass of pens encrusted with ink - and more manuscripts. The chairs, most of them straw chairs, were covered with plates full of the remains of the previous evening's meal. Both Balzac and Dickens would use two full pages to describe what I have seen in Beethoven's two rooms. But as I am neither Balzac nor Dickens, I limit myself to saying this: I was at Beethoven's."

Beethoven, the Chef(??)

I recall, in the memoir of one Seyfried, a friend of Beethoven, an incident involving a dinner that Beethoven prepared for a small group of friends, including Seyfried. This is the writer's description of the event:
`After waiting patiently for about an hour and a half(!), the guests were first served a soup that, according to Seyfried, looked and tasted like those charitable leavings distributed to beggars in the taverns; the beef followed, which was but half done and suited only for an ostrich. The vegetables floated in a mixture of water and grease. All of the afore- mentioned tasted as if it had been extracted from the chimney.
Fortunately for his friends, the great composer rather quickly tired of undergoing the tasks of cooking, and the survivors, including Beethoven, returned to the local taverns for their meals.
The entire cooking project was Beethoven's idea, his reason being that the costs would be far less than purchasing meals in the town's eating establishments.
His taste for the sounds he created was another thing, for which we all give thanks.

The Tragedy of Beethoven - a letter in 1802

This letter which he wrote to his brothers has been come to be known as the "Heiligenstadt Testament."
In it the full impact of coming deafness, probably first discerned by him in 1798, is given us.
In part, he thinks of the possibility of suicide, but understands the impact of his creative gift, and reasons his way back to the job he must do.
"How humiliating - I must live in exile. When someone stands next to me and hears a flute, and I hear nothing - only my art holds me back from ending my life."
And the letter goes on, demonstrating that suicide is not a choice; as these incredible gifts are so rare, that there is a job to do.
This defining document, therefore, describes the first battle in a life-long war which the fabled composer wins, as is proven by the legacy he left his world.
I will address other aspects of Beethoven's experiences in the near future.

Beethoven and the girl with the manure

One of the more curious incidents noted by Schindler, Beethoven's biographer, was repeated many times:
Beethoven, at this point totally deaf, would take his almost daily walk outside of the town of Vienna, and at times would end up at a farm separated from him by a fence.
On the farm side of the fence would appear occasionally a lusty blond teen-ager(my memory reminds me that her name was Ilse Flehberger, and her job was to pitch manure with a pitchfork).
Imagine this picture: There, on one side of the fence, was this middle-aged man of about five feet four inches, with a stove-pipe hat perched at an angle on his head, with a rather long white handkerchief trailing out of a back pocket, with hands folded behind, looking at this young lass doing her work, not saying a word, and remaining in this position for many minutes. Schindler remarks that she would occasionally laugh derisively at this strange person while pitching the manure. Beethoven never said a word, and then would move on.
This event occurred many times, according to Schindler, and absolutely nothing came of all this.
Beethoven never struck up a conversation with the girl - he simply gaped at her time after time, and would then resume his constitutional.
What a strange, lonely man the deafness had molded.
But the Music that streamed out of this insulated world - well, that is another story.